Not Quite a Schism
by Flashing The Floods
Summary: Basketball games are good ideas, Debrah isn't cruel at all, and Lynn means just as much as the next girl. Castiel is conflicted and Lysander is hard to perturb. Stands alone, serves as somewhat of a follow up for It's Simply Comeuppance. Another one of my crappy oneshots, and I probably rated too high...Oh, and not slash if the description makes it seem slashy.


** Author's Note: Somewhat of a loose sequel to It's Simply Comeuppance. Painfully plotless, mainly dialogue. Castiel/Debrah angst, some slight Castiel/Lynn (the candy character in the manga) Castiel and Lysander bromance. Another one of my crappy vent fics. Oh, and my bizarrely disjointed writing style has reared its ugly head again. To the max. **

**P.S. It is my headcannon that Lysander's mattress is memory foam. **

"Pick up your feet," Lysander gently urged the owner of the arm that was sullenly slung around his shoulders. "You're not really hurt, just your pride. And we're almost there."

Castiel offered a grunt, but no verbal reply as he honored the request. The remainder of the walk to Lysander's apartment was noiseless aside from the sound of footsteps (dragging a little tonight, are we?) on cracked cement. "Well, let's hope Leigh hasn't left yet, because in all that chaos I forgot my keys," the taller teen muttered wearily.

"You pissed at me?" Castiel's tone had softened somewhat, carrying a trace of apology undetectable to anyone who hadn't heard it before.

"No," Lysander breathed. "I definitely think you could have handled the situation better. I think assaulting Dajan altogether was unnecessary and immature, but that didn't come without price, did it?"

Suddenly the redhead's bruises throbbed harder. "I still would've won."

"Would have won what, the fight? Perhaps, and what would that have done for you?" calmly asked the silver haired man.

"It would have got him to back off of my girl," Castiel mumbled, not so certain now that things were in hindsight.

"Your girl? Okay, let's say you're right and beating Dajan resulted in him leaving _Debrah_. What then? She left you." Lysander's voice was still patient and placid, lacking the urgency and irritation that one would normally vocalize when scolding another, but Castiel knew that's exactly what his friend was doing. That stung. Damn it, everything was stinging. He should have snapped, should have argued or left. Instead he lowered his gaze to the trodden down carpet. "You gonna see if your brother's home, or what? Getting tired of standing here…"

Lysander knocked on the door without another word. It flew open mere seconds later, an apologetic ebony haired man frowning nervously in its void. "Oh Rosa I'm so sorry I'm l…Oh." Leigh spared a second to chuckle at his mistake. "It's just you two-Oh good god, what happened to you!?" Eyes the color of hot cocoa lit up in alarm at the redhead's appearance. Recently dried blood crusted under a split open lip, the damage caused by the same ring that tore cleanly into one cheek and under the opposite gray eye. That ring, that ring was what really started the fight. It'd been his own once, he'd worn it every single day after their one month anniversary. Until the day she left, that is.

He'd given it to her then. _"Just uh, remember me when you're on the road. Maybe it'll give you good luck, huh Deb?" _

He'd even had a chain slipped through it in case she wanted to wear it on her neck (he'd never tell her, or anybody, how much he hoped she would).

And then he'd seen it on Dajan's finger, god damn it. When the hell had Debrah hit it off with him? How? One week back at Sweet Amoris and she hooked up with a guy who didn't even go there!? How could she give him that ring!? How dare he have the audacity to wear it!

"Castiel?"

The redhead lifted his eyes to meet two sets of concerned ones. Concerned and expectant. He'd missed something...And he'd somehow gotten into the living room. "Yeah?"

Lysander waved a hand. "Never mind. You know where the bathroom is, go get cleaned up. Leigh's leaving me the car keys, I'll take you home when you're done."

"Okay." Castiel nodded and sluggishly made his way down the hall. This was actually the first opportunity he'd had to assess the damage himself; Bruise on his jaw, larger bruise on the side of his face and beneath the cut. Another bruise on the opposite side and swelling slightly under a smaller cut. A small bump of the back of the head, so small that he only knew it was a bump because of the dried clot of blood in his hair that accompanied it. The busted lip. Not bad, he'd get his sexy back in a day or two. He knew he'd inflicted worse on the face of the other man. But of course, neither of them had aimed solely for the face.

Castiel took his jacket off (the umber semi-tight one that _she_ liked so much) and then grasped the hem of his shirt. Even before he'd finished pulling it off, he knew that what injury hidden under it would be worse. The pain there wasn't as dull as everything else, it was sharper, keener. Almost deliberate. Just moving to pull the shirt up caused a twinge, pulling the thing over his head was close to impossible. But he grit his teeth and bore it, disdainfully dropping the sable material to the floor as if it were the shirt's intention to intensify his suffering.

Looking back to the mirror, Castiel hissed a soft "Fuck." It was worse alright, more than he'd even guessed. A deep sickening shade of bluish purple (eggplant, right?) crawled across half of his chest and the majority of his right side. A good portion of the lower left, too. Goddamn. He hoped the damage was surface only, but the pulsing ache that vibrated through his ribcage suggested otherwise. Oh well. Too bad, so sad. Castiel grabbed a damp washcloth and brusquely swiped away the dried blood.

He didn't bother to put his shirt back on, simply picked it up with the jacket and started walking down the hall. It then occurred to him he didn't feel like going all the way back home. It wasn't really that far of a trip, but it was late. He was exhausted, and the prospect of getting a ride from Lysander wasn't exactly appealing. His friend had done him enough favors for the time being, and on top of that Lysander just wasn't the most reassuring person to drive with. It didn't matter that he'd been to Castiel's house a thousand times, he'd still probably go and get lost. It was just his nature. The redhead paused outside of Lysander's room, an idea sparking. He pushed open the door and surveyed it. Unoccupied. Good.

Castiel dumped the clothes he held on the floor and plopped down on the bed, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain that riddled his torso. The redhead wormed his way under the covers and sunk into the mattress with somewhat of a smile. It was a shitty day, but Lysander had one of those cushy memory foam mattresses. Those were a sliver of relief even on the shittiest of days, especially if you were exhausted.

The bed highjacking didn't go unnoticed for very long.

"What is this?" Lysander asked when he appeared in the doorway what couldn't have been five minutes later.

"It _was_ your bed. Now it's mine."

"No. Get out, I'm taking you home."

"Too tired for that," Castiel feigned a yawn, though he was genuinely tired, and turned his head to face his silver haired friend.

"Where do you propose I sleep?"

"You got a couch. Besides, you let Nathaniel join our band last week. This is payback."

"Oh, fine." Lysander held up his hands in defeat. "You can stay there. But I'm not sleeping on the couch." He leaned down and picked up Castiel's discarded attire from the floor, proceeded to fold it and then set it on his dresser. The redhead gave a tiny shrug, indifferent to sharing a bed with his friend. It was a decent-sized bed.

Lysander shut off the light and then peeled back the covers, a firm frown twisting his lips at the discolorations visible even in the dark. "You didn't break any, did you?" he asked as he slid onto the mattress.

"Break any what?"

"Ribs."

"Nah, of course not." Allowing that degree of injury inflicted to even be believable would be giving Dajan too much credit. He would not give that Debrah-thieving (it's not thievery if it's not yours) bastard (the ring was mine) more credit. Besides, how the hell would he know if they were broken?

"Are you sure? It looks pretty bad. Certainly painful." A subtle change in the smooth tone. Poised chiding; Lysander was scolding him again.

"Looks are deceiving," the redhead mumbled in response, abruptly rolling over to face the wall. A fluid display of just how much it didn't hurt. He bit his tongue just in case that nonexistent pain decided to betray him and verbalize itself.

"Goodnight." Another subtle change. His tone was still calm, but he was frustrated. Not very, if so he'd let it on (you never _really_ hold back, do you Lys?), but slightly. Even the Buddha's patience wears thin every now and then, it seems.

"Night." Castiel murmured back. He closed his eyes and begged sleep to wash over him. He longed for the warm blackness to just wash over him like a tidal wave and drag him out to drown. But exhausted as he was, he couldn't sleep. He closed his eyes and her face was there. Her devilishly sparkling gaze and her full (fuchsia) painted lips. Lips that had met another man's in his presence.

The redhead's heart twisted painfully in his chest at the vivid memory. Debrah kissed Dajan right in front of him. She'd known he was watching too, right? He didn't want to believe that, he didn't want to believe his feelings would mean so little to her that she'd actually do that but…How could she have not known? Why would she do that?

A cold feeling swept through Castiel. Could he have actually done something to warrant her actions? Was she purposely hurting him for something he'd done?

"Lysander…"

"There's aspirin on the nightstand."

"No, it's not that…"

"What's wrong?"

"Did I hurt Debrah?"

"Elaborate further."

As formal as ever today, huh? "Did I hurt her feelings or upset her, or anything like that? I just don't understand what she's doing with him…And tonight at the basketball game, it was almost like she…" He trailed off. He couldn't say it. He couldn't bring himself to smear Debrah's name, or taint her character. He loved her.

" 'Almost like she' what?" Lysander was indulgent and knowing. Always seemed to understand, when it came to him anyway. The silver haired male knew exactly where Castiel was leading to, but wouldn't spare the redhead from further explanation.

He sighed in defeat. "Like she was flaunting herself with him just to piss me off. So you know, did I hurt her or somethin'?"

"Castiel, you're smarter than this. What could you have possibly done to hurt Debrah's feelings?"

"Goddamn, do you really think I'd be asking you if I knew that?" The redhead huffed and turned over, glaring harshly at Lysander's back. The rushed movement of the action reawakened the pulsating stabs in his side and dug daggers deeper into the center of discomfort. Castiel bit back any pained sound that might have left his lips and simply used the throbbing as a fuel for intensifying his glower.

"Don't let your affection blind you like this. You already know she's using Dajan as a tool, and if you'd look past that innocent mask she puts on for you and anyone else who will believe it, you'd already know why. If I just go out and say it, you're only going to get mad at me." Lysander sighed wearily and rolled over, meeting the burning glare with somber bicolored pools.

Castiel wasn't particularly surprised by the silver haired man's blunt and unflattering opinion regarding Debrah, but as inclined to defend her as he always had, he heaved a deep (too deep, too deep damn it, that hurts!) sigh of acceptance. "Spit it out already, I won't get mad."

Surprise simultaneously flashed across jonquil and shamrock. "Very well. She's jealous of Lynn, so she's seeing Dajan to provoke the same feeling from you."

"What? That's stupid, I'm not even dating Lynn!"

"But you're quite close to Lynn and she expresses interest in you. Reciprocated or not, that's enough for Debrah."

The redhead thought this over and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't believe that Debrah would do that over something petty like jealousy. It has to be something else."

"If Debrah never came back, would you and Lynn be a couple?"

Castiel hesitated. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he liked Lynn. He liked her a lot. He'd never tell her so, but a lot of time all it took to make him smile was to see the ditzy brunette. It was fun to tease her and watch the roses bloom in her cheeks, to hear her stutter in a feisty protest that no, she was _not _embarrassed. More than that, he just…Liked her. It couldn't be explained. He'd considered asking her out once or twice, but then he'd look at the magazines he'd buy only to track _her _steadily rising success. He liked Lynn. He had loved Debrah.

"I don't know, maybe."

"So then you at least admit that it's plausible."

"I didn't say that."

"Is there any other reason she would have for doing this then?"

Charcoal orbs wavered uncertainly in contemplation, but the redhead remained loyal to his (former) lover. "Maybe she really does just like Dajan. She probably wasn't really trying to rub it in my face that she's with another guy. We were just in the same place at the same time."

"As you see it." Lysander gave a tiny nod, clearly disagreeing, but he wouldn't push it. He shifted his position to face the wall once more. Castiel did the same, more slowly this time, but that didn't diminish the pain as much as he'd hoped. "Fuck." he growled softly. He'd intended to keep the curse in his head.

"Was I misjudging earlier when I said you weren't hurt? I'm beginning to get concerned…" The frown was evident in the silver haired male's voice.

"Don't. It's fine when I'm not moving," assured the redhead. It was partly true, his torso still incessantly throbbed, but it wasn't an insufferable condition. For the time being, motion was.

"Should I get some ice?"

"No really, it's fine."

"Well alright…You're not going to school tomorrow, are you?"

Castiel shook his head. "Nah, wasn't planning on it. Why?"

"I don't know how kindly the principal will look at that fight you started, that's all. I think it'd be better if you lie low for awhile." All of the subtle scolding had left Lysander's tone. He was just discussing it as anything else. Good.

"Pfft, it happened after the game, let alone after school. She can't do shit about it," grunted the redhead.

"But everyone will be talking about it, and I seriously doubt anyone cleaned up the blood in the parking lot."

Blood in the parking lot? Castiel was sure there was, but far from enough to cause attention. "I'm sure people will be talking about it, but I think you're exaggerating when it comes to the blood. It was a fist fight, not a massacre."

"No no, I saw the whole thing. There is definitely blood."

This perked Castiel's curiosity. In all honesty, most of the fight was a blur to him, even though he'd been (the instigator) a participant and it'd only happened hours before. "That much, huh? Mostly mine or mostly his?" And from what?

There was a minute pause as Lysander contemplated. "Considering you stabbed him with his necklace, I'd have to say mostly Dajan's. A good amount is still probably yours though. You kept slamming each other into the cars and the ground- The former being very stupid. Very very stupid. I hope you didn't dent any of those cars, or you may be charged."

The redhead smirked as a bit of the mental blur cleared up. "Heh, I forgot I stabbed him with that chintzy thing. I guess that stabbing is kind of a bitch move, but he had it coming. Bastard was trying to kick my knees, and you _know_ that's a bitch move. The old Asian guy in the Karate Kid even says so, and you know old Asian guys know what they're talking about when it comes to kicking ass."

"…Right…I actually tried to break it up before you could pull that 'bitch' move, but I didn't have any help."

"Bullshit, there were like twenty people watching."

"Exactly, and they all wanted to keep watching. I turned to Nathaniel, thinking he'd be more mature than that, but he was actually quite engrossed."

Castiel scoffed. "And you say my dislike for him is uncalled for. I'm sure the little prick had a helluva time watching my blood spill."

Lysander rolled his eyes. "Now I _never _said that."

"Uh-huh."

"I certainly didn't."

"You did. But hey, during the fight…Was Lynn around?" Castiel wondered. He didn't remember seeing her there, and if she was she'd probably try to break it up. She was pretty determined, and didn't make staying out of another's business a hobby. Lynn had even stepped into a fight before, that time between him and Nathaniel. Surprisingly she'd actually defused it…

"No, she wasn't there," answered the silver haired man. "I don't even think she was at the game."

"Oh. Alright…"

"Well I'm going to go to sleep now. I hope you at least try to do the same, considering you're taking up half the space in my bed. Goodnight."

"You'll skip with me tomorrow, right?"

Lysander breathed a soft chuckle. "Assuming I even had a choice in the matter, of course."

"You wouldn't. G'night." He'd started the conversation in an attempt to put mind at rest. It just fucked his thoughts up more. All the same, the further complication was mentally frying and succeeded in being too much to take on for the time being. Lack of attempt put Castiel to sleep and he was able to forget her face for a little while.


End file.
